


Playing Aeroplanes

by blueboxonbakerstreet



Category: Cabin Pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:52:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxonbakerstreet/pseuds/blueboxonbakerstreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Daddy! Look at me! Daddy, look!' Six year old Arthur Shappey giggled as he raced around the living room in circles, his arms thrust out at his sides to look like aeroplane wings."</p><p>Just a little drabble about Arthur as a little boy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Aeroplanes

“Daddy! Look at me! Daddy, look!” Six year old Arthur Shappey giggled as he raced around the living room in circles, his arms thrust out at his sides to look like aeroplane wings. The little boy had been put under the care of his father for the night (much to his father’s displeasure) and the man was having a bit of a time corralling him. Usually, Arthur didn’t like to leave his mum’s side, but she was out with some friends from school and the woman had promised her son that he and his dad would have loads of fun.   
“Just behave,” Carolyn had told him sternly before pecking both of his chubby cheeks and leaving, her high heels click-clacking across the marble floor.   
“Daddy! Look! I’m an aeroplane!” Arthur repeated, zooming closer and closer to where his father, Gordon, sat on the sofa, balancing a tumbler of whiskey on his knee.   
“Yeah, I see you,” Gordon mumbled, frowning as he moved his head to see the television set around Arthur. “Stay still, won’t you?”  
However, Arthur didn’t listen, too wrapped up in his own mind to pay any attention to what his father was saying. After a few minutes, Arthur realized that his dad was hardly paying any attention to him, much to his dismay. So, he figured if he got closer, his father would be able to see him better and maybe even be convinced to play with him for a change. As Arthur approached his father, arms out, everything seemed to go in slow motion.   
Arthur, losing his footing and flying the foot or so distance into his father’s lap, spilling whiskey everywhere and shattering the glass tumbler on the ground.   
Arthur, landing straight into the broken glass, arms first.  
Gordon, jumping up, cursing loudly and shaking the spilled liquid off of his hands.   
Arthur, screaming his lungs out as blood began to trickle down his arms, dripping onto the hardwood floor.   
Gordon hesitated for a moment before picking the boy up by his armpits and carrying him across the room to a spot where there was little to no glass covering the ground.  
“Arthur, calm down,” He tried, the little boy’s frantic screeching ringing in his ears. “Arthur, stop it!”  
However, as much as Gordon tried to calm him down, Arthur continued to scream, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks. Eventually, after a few moment of trying to get him to just be quiet and show him his arms, Gordon snapped, reaching out and grabbing the little boy by the shoulders. He shook him, hard, as he shouted in his face, finally getting him to quiet down.   
“Will you just shut up? Just shut up for once in your life, you idiot!” Gordon spat in the boy’s face, a large vein bulging in his neck.   
Just then, a gasp came from the doorway, signaling Carolyn’s return.   
“Arthur!” She cried desperately, rushing across the room and pushing Gordon out of the way. She carefully lifted Arthur’s arms to inspect his wounds before carefully scooping him up into her arms. By this point, the little boy had resumed his crying, although this time, he omitted the frantic screaming.  
Arthur had to get five stitches in his arms that night which he endured like a champ according to the nurse patching him up in recovery. He carried a few, faint scars from the ordeal around for the rest of is life, serving as a reminder to always be very, very careful around his dad.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the anon on tumblr who prompted me this scenario-- it's about 2am right now, so i dont know how coherent this story is, but I'll probably fix it up later! :) Thank you for reading!


End file.
